Rewriting History
by AngelBaby214
Summary: AU "Hat Trick" and continuation. A look into Jefferson's past in his crazy or not-so-crazy head and what becomes of his little toy Emma. How much madness can she take? T for now, may change later!
1. Chapter 1

**A.N - Hi you guys, so this is my first step into the world of Once fanfiction! My ultimate couple as of now is Mad Swan, who this story is about. I also ship Rumbelle, Snowing, and sometimes Mad Queen here and there. I have no idea where this story will take me, but here is my best shot!**

Rewriting History

Chapter One: The Truth Untold

Time is truly a gift, isn't it? People don't realize how much precious time they have; instead they spend their lives squandering for answers and desires and wishes that will never come to them. A wish may seem easy to acquire, but some wishes are only awarded to those deserving of one. In time, these foolish people make unnecessary mistakes that could shatter the fragile course of their lives. Those who wish for frivolous trinkets, selfish needs, incessant power, and endless amounts of money are deranged in their vision of a much-needed wish. However, they choose to be only concerned with bettering themselves and never letting anyone stand in their way. When these haughty, self-imposed people do not get their wish, they strike raging revenge. Cold-blooded, sick, twisted revenge. They wreak havoc on those undeserving and those who did nothing to harm their punisher, leaving the victims wondering what they did to deserve their punishment. Sometimes, there is logic as to why these people seek ways of vengeance. Very many of the revenge seekers are lonely, have been shot down from some past experience, or just looking for a good thrill. They are blind to the pattern that the world falls into because they are so self-concerned. But the most important thing that they do not realize is the bigger mess they made of themselves and innocent others. That's when reality takes them by the neck and strangles them with the harsh truth. The truth untold that no person ever dared to mention because of the person's quest to be the one with glory, power and almighty reign. However, the innocent others must make these power-hungry demons realize this life lesson before the demon inside of them unleashes for good. The truth about this life and this world is that the past cannot be unwritten. The past is in the past, and there is no way to amend it. People must learn to move on, and of course there are some who choose to drown in regret and sorrow. Those lonely walkers with no hand to reach to, no shoulder to cry on, and no one who truly cares for them. They live alone, dreaming of a better tomorrow that they know will never appear. Living a life of remorse and bitterness can drive a person mad, insane even. And now, enter Jefferson.

Jefferson Kelly was not always so somber and lonesome, despite a normal person's perception. Jefferson is a very handsome man with long brown hair cascading down the right side of his face, piercing green eyes that can deceive someone in an instant keeping them captive in his gaze, and perfectly whitened half-smile all too adorable and sexy to be true. He had a ten year-old daughter named Grace, however her name in Storybrooke was Paige. He loved his daughter more than any human being ever since his Alice, Grace's mother, died from execution by the Queen of Hearts. Grace and Jefferson rarely left each other's side and always stuck together until the day the curse happened. Jefferson promised Grace that he would be back for tea time as soon as he left his humble abode, making the worst possible decision of his life. He made a deal with the Evil Queen Regina that if Regina got what she wanted, Jefferson and Grace could never be separated. It turned out that Regina wanted her father back at home, so she took her father back through the mirror to Storybrooke and left Jefferson trapped in Wonderland. Although he had his Grace, the inability to go through the mirror secretly killed him. He thought he had no other way to live and would be caged in the Hellhole of Wonderland forever. That was until the Dark Curse.

The Dark Curse that the Evil Queen cast upon the entire Fairy Tale Land transported them all to Storybrooke, where their past life forgotten and no memories resided in their minds. Jefferson looked to be one of the few who took forgetting Wonderland as a gift. However, the curse affected the only other human who ever loved him: his daughter. Grace had no idea who Jefferson was anymore because in Storybrooke, she was technically adopted and her name changed to Paige. Every day, Jefferson longed to kill Regina for the damned curse and the punishment of losing his memories of happiness. She taunted him with the sight of Grace so near and looking so happy with her new family. He watched her day in and day out through his telescope and secretly wondered what these people did to make her smile all the time. She hadn't looked so happy since the last day Jefferson remembered that he was in Wonderland with her and they played hide-and-seek all around the Enchanted Forest.

Grace giggled with satisfaction every time she found her father hiding someplace; whether he was up in a tree, in a cave, or behind a bush, she laughed until she cried sometimes. Oh, how he craved to hear that sweet childish laugh again. Faintly, he could hear the sound ringing in his ears for a split second, just the smallest of memories; then it vanished all too soon, just like the rest of his life. Jefferson cursed and punched at the air, unable to rid himself of his uncontrollable anger. One day, if this curse were ever to break, he would find his way back to his beautiful daughter, and he vowed to never lose her again once he claimed her. Much to his dismay, this curse would be impossibly hard to break, he thought, but someday it would prevail. He just had to have hope.

Twenty-eight years passed by and he hadn't aged a bit. Jefferson still remained a 30 year old man, stuck in misery and left with the heart-wrenching pain of forgotten, crushed dreams. He tried plenty of ways to make his hat work and get back to Wonderland, ever since the Queen of Hearts assigned Jefferson, the Mad Hatter, the task of getting it to work. Jefferson finally discovered the secret to getting the stubborn hat to work: magic. Magic would solve his dilemma for good, however the glitch to that was that he possessed no magic. So, Jefferson would just have to find some. Countless days and nights he searched for some inkling of magic, finding none in his quest. Jefferson returned late one night to his colossal mansion and watched Grace get tucked into bed that night, smiling as she slept.

DING! DONG! DING! DONG! _The clock?! In Town Hall?! It works?!_

Jefferson moved his telescope towards the Town Hall clock, and sure enough, the resounding ticks and tocks finally came out. The clock hadn't worked ever since the Curse came into play, so why would it all of a sudden begin to work? And then it hit him. Magic! He shifted the telescope around and into his sight popped up a little yellow Volkswagen Beetle and a young girl with beautiful blonde hair flowing in the wind as she rolled down her car window and stuck her arm out of the window, resting her head in her hand. A smirk appeared on Jefferson's face just in that instant. He found the answer. He could finally get it to work.

**So what do you think so far? Review below and let me know if I should continue. Thanks a billion!**

**- Ashley Marie -**


	2. Chapter 2

Rewriting History

Chapter Two: A Thousand Eyes

Emma Swan seemed just a regular young girl, pretty, single, and perceptive. However, Emma Swan had a dark past, a past anyone would never choose to have. Twenty-eight years old and still an orphan, Emma just needed some acceptance and someone to need her. She always had the notion that no one loved her; her parents left her on the side of the freeway as just a mere newborn and no one even cared. She grew up as a foster child, but after her foster parents decided to have children of their own, they sent Emma off somewhere else. Her new foster parents abused her and just emphasized the plain fact that no one could ever love her. That was only the second time no one wanted her. When she got older, Emma decided that it was somewhat okay to let men into her life. Every time a new man came into her life, she pushed them all away because of an emotional barricade with a fear that just like all the others, everyone would leave her. She thought she was destined to live and die alone. Emma made a stupid mistake during her senior year in high school that changed the course of her life; she got pregnant at seventeen years old after a drunk night at her senior prom and after the father heard the news, he left her. So, for the rest of the term, she had no one to support her. The day her child was born, she knew she could not keep him because she couldn't raise him on her own. Emma named her precious baby boy Henry and gave him up for adoption a few short days after his birth. Emma had to escape the madness of her shattered life somehow, so she moved to Boston, got her own apartment, and became a bail bonds lady. She hated to talk about her past. She hated for people to hear her sob story, she hated people feeling sorry for her because half of the time, they didn't actually feel anything. The worst insecurity of Emma's had to be her personality. Men wanted a respectable, polite, quiet, demure beauty queen, she thought, so who could ever love someone just the opposite?

The night of Emma's twenty-eighth birthday, she had a date with a man but soon came to face the fact that he was married. Angrily, she left the restaurant and decided that another birthday would be spent alone for her. She bought a cupcake, a candle, and a box of matches from the store and drove back to her apartment. Emma put the candle in the cupcake, lit the candle, and for the first time in a long time, she made a wish on her candle. Emma wished not to be alone on this birthday and blew out the flaming blue candle. Emma reached over to the refrigerator and almost pulled out the large wine bottle when came a knocking at the door.

Emma opened the door and expected to find just someone from the apartment building; instead she looked down to see a small boy wearing a beat-up backpack and a genuine smile.

"Hi, are you Emma Swan," the boy asked.

Emma's face wrinkled in curiosity but politely answered, "Yeah." The boy smiled even wider and replied, "Good, cause I'm Henry. I'm your son." Emma stood dazed for a moment trying to see if this boy could be lying, and she figured he was. Emma was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice how Henry waltzed his way into her apartment and placed his backpack on the couch. Emma chased after him.

"Kid, hey, hey kid! What are you doing? Get out of my apartment!" Henry ignored her and just looked around the meager belongings she owned. He stopped to admire the view of the Boston skyline from the twenty-third floor and looked to Emma with curiosity.

"Emma, I'm here to help you out, I promise. I really need your help to do something no one else can and -"

"Wait, slow down kid." Emma interrupted, "Just give me a minute, okay?" Henry nodded and Emma slowly made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Emma forced herself to look in the mirror and take a few deep breaths. After splashing some water on her face and composing herself, Emma reentered the kitchen and faced Henry challengingly.

"Alright, Henry. What do you want me to do?"

"Okay," Henry said taking in a breath, "don't laugh."

"I won't." Emma assured him as she sat down on the white couch in the living room.

"My town needs your help. The people there all came from a magical land and don't remember who they are. The Evil Queen put them under a curse and you're the only one who can save us." Emma looked at the small ten year-old quizzically and questioned her sanity in letting this kid come into her house.

"I don't exactly know how I can do this, but I'll take you home and I'll see what I can do. Where is home exactly?"

"Storybrooke, Maine," Henry replied with a giant grin spreading across his face. Henry got Emma to see the light. "Come on, we don't have time to waste! We have to break this curse before it's too late! Come on, Emma!"

"I'm coming! Relax!" Emma shouted from her bedroom as she packed a small bag for the trip there and back. Henry already stood by the front door, ready to run out of the apartment and start the long drive back to Maine. Emma, small duffel in her hand, grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter and, after Henry, went out the door and locked it behind her.

On the elevator down to the lobby, Henry began to tap his foot impatiently as the elevator made its long trip down from the twenty-third floor. Emma lightly hit Henry, scolding him to make him stop tapping his foot. As the elevator rang when the pair reached the first floor, Henry bolted out of the elevator like a loose puppy off of his leash. All Emma could do to keep up with the agile ten year-old was run as fast as she could. Henry eventually met up with Emma at the passenger side door of Emma's run-down yellow Volkswagen Beetle, and as soon as Emma started the car, off they went back to Storybrooke, Maine.

About an hour into their trip, Emma cruised down Interstate 95 before a line of heavy traffic stopped just before they reached the New York state line. Horns honked, people shouted at traffic control men up at the front of the line where an accident had just occurred. Emma, untouched by the seemingly hectic scene, just sat and waited with her head leaning back against the headrest. She closed her eyes for what seemed like an hour, but not ten seconds later did Henry's small voice wake Emma from her trance.

"I'm hungry, Emma! Did you bring any food?" Emma thankfully did and tossed two granola bars in the back seat to the ten year-old just to shut him up.

"Here, kid. Sorry, it's all I got," Emma turned back to the front of the car, heaving a sigh as the traffic finally inched forwards. After another hour wasted in travel time, Emma finally got on the interstate again, questioning herself on why she followed Henry's directions. Eventually, after Henry ranted on and on about how only one person could break the curse, known to the people of Storybrooke as "The Savior," Emma finally made Henry change the subject by asking random questions that had nothing to do with anything they talked about. Emma saw the sign "Storybrooke; 1 Mile" and exclaimed in joy, "Finally! Henry, why is this town so isolated from the rest of civilization?"

Henry didn't answer. He was too busy staring out the window, entranced by the sound of rain pattering on the car windows and the mysterious forests that rushed by. Emma pulled up to a house where Henry said his mother lived with a large, ornate fountain in the front yard, a group of trees on either side of the white two-story house with a balcony up top. Emma didn't bother to question Henry if this was the right house because, yet again, he was probably right.

A middle-aged woman with short black hair, probably only stood 5 feet tall, rushed outside when she saw a car pull into the driveway and hugged her son in relief when he stepped out of the car.

"Oh Henry," she exclaimed, "don't ever do that to me again! I was so worried about you. You look tired, please go to sleep for me."

"Okay, mom. Good night!" Henry bolted into the house, leaving the two women alone outside to talk. Emma flashed a small smile at the other woman and the other gave one in return. First to break the silence was Emma.

"Hi. I'm Emma Swan, and you are?" Another half-smile from the other woman.

"Regina Mills. Well, um, please come in Miss Swan, if you don't mind?" Emma cautiously accepted her offer and joined Regina in the giant study for some coffee and a conversation.

"So, it seems my son Henry came to find you. I wonder why that is?" Emma knew the answer but was unsure how to restate Henry's explanation nicely.

"Well, he just babbled some nonsense about a curse and how some one person was "The Savior" and-" Regina abruptly cut Emma off mid-sentence.

"What curse? Oh no, what story did Henry make up this time? You know, he's always been very good at telling stories, making them up too." This was the point when Emma had to filter her speech a little bit.

"He thinks that I can save everyone and that you're evil or something like that. He has a storybook of all the people's lives and how what happened in the book actually did happen here. He's a very creative kid." Regina, taken aback by her son's words, recollected herself for a moment, unable to speak or move. She gave Emma an inquisitive look which Emma could not decipher into Regina's thoughts. Emma again broke the silence.

"Well, it's getting late. I think I should be heading back to good old Boston right about now. Um, thank you for the coffee, and tell Henry I said good night, if you don't mind?" Regina only nodded and nudged Emma towards the door. With a fake smile, Regina wished Emma safe travels, and as Emma left turning that fake smile into a devious smirk.

Back up at his window, Henry watched Emma's car, pull out of the driveway and he waved innocently to her. Emma returned the wave and gave one last look and a smile back at Henry. Hope filled Henry's heart and a smile spread across his face.

Tick.

The minute hand on the Town Hall clock began to move, after always stuck on 8:15 for as long as Henry could remember. He giggled and knew that Emma would be the one to save his city.

Emma drove for a while trying to find a hotel and finally gave in to ask someone walking along the sidewalk that night where the closest motel was. Glad she took the man's advice, Emma finally found a motel by the name of Granny's. She walked into the small building, searching for anyone to help her out.

"Hello," she asked. "I'm looking for a room." And out popped a lively old woman from behind the counter. "So, I'm taking the guess you're Granny?"

"That I sure am, dear? What will it be? We've got full vacancy, but the best room is Number Three. My daughter Ruby will show it to you, sound okay?"

"Yeah sure," Emma smiled as the old woman gave her the key to her room.

"How long will you be staying with us, Miss . . . um . . ."

"Emma. Emma Swan." Granny smiled at her and wrote in her name in an empty notepad. _Creepy_, Emma thought, _does anyone even know about this place?_ "And I'll be here . . . for a week."

"Well, welcome to Storybrooke." Lightly placing the key in Emma's hands, Granny signaled for Ruby to show Emma to her room. The two girls disappeared up the stairs talking away as Granny closed the notebook up and went to reside in her room.

Just at that time, the lens captured Emma's slender frame with Ruby in Emma's room talking and giggling. The two bid good-nights to each other and Emma turned off the lights in the room. Luckily, Ruby had a pair of clothes just her size, so Emma changed her shirt and pants, crawled under the covers, closed her eyes, and dreamed of a better day tomorrow.

"Yes, my dear Emma, welcome to Storybrooke." Jefferson muttered under his breath with a wicked chuckle just as he too turned out the lights and went to sleep.

**A.N : So, you like so far? :) I really hope so because this story idea has been bubbling up for months and it was itching to get out! :) Thanks again for reading!**

**- Ashley Marie -**


	3. Chapter 3

Rewriting History

Chapter Three: Taken

Days and months seemed to drudge on by as Emma Swan lived in a world where mystery was never uncommon. Although most people in Storybrooke were friendly, a few people Emma knew were dangerous characters and she had to watch for them. Take Regina Mills for example. After being elected Mayor of Storybrooke, her attitude became more self-consuming, selfish, and stuck-up. Emma took this as an omen that Regina could crush her world at any given moment because of the one person they would continuously argue over: Henry. Henry made all A's in school, didn't disrupt anyone's lives, and always looked to the benefit of others before his own. That wasn't the reason they fought; the real question was: "Who's kid is he anyway?" The question bubbled curiosity throughout Storybrooke as well, stirring up scandal between the Mayor and the newly-appointed Sheriff. After Sheriff Graham's unfortunate death, the town needed a new Sheriff and Graham trusted only Emma with the responsibility. That was just it. Graham trusted her.

The night Graham died, Emma and Regina had just gotten into a fight, punched each other in an outrageous frenzy and Graham eventually broke up the two bickering women. With a nasty cut on the side of her head, Graham led Emma back to the station to get her things to leave for the night. Graham tenderly disinfected the wound, smiling at Emma's gentle response. Emma smiled brightly, glowing with a feeling of acceptance and joy. Graham leaned in to Emma's hand on his cheek, caressing his lips with her own. The kiss was gentle but at the same time hard and passionate. Eventually, tongues explored each other's mouths with a desire and unhealthy, hungry lust. Emma let down her walls in that moment because every just felt so right and real kissing Graham. He made her feel alive, as she did to him.

Suddenly, Graham pulled himself away from Emma's embrace, startled by the jerking, involuntary motion. A pain clutched hold of him inside that felt as though his heart was being crushed. It turns out, it was. Regina, angry and envious that Graham and Emma were in love, took out Graham's heart from a gold case and within her magical hands crushed the dear Sheriff's heart. Emma screamed his name in panic, hopefully he had just passed out or something, but when she heard no pulse, grim reality took hold of her. Sheriff Graham had just died in her arms.

It took a long time for Emma to grieve her loss, still convinced that the whole encounter and the fallout was her doing. People always questioned Graham's mysterious death and how Emma related to it, but Emma could never answer anyone's questions without crying. Eventually, she figured it wasn't her fault because she did absolutely nothing to harm him. _This is not my fault_, she thought over and over, _but who could ever be this cruel?_ Regina. Only Regina could ever do the world such an injustice. Oh well, she just had to forget about it and move on with her life.

It was Tuesday July the 10th as Emma read on her calendar; exactly 26 days after the night Graham passed away. With a sigh, Emma rolled out of bed and began to start her day as usual. Her infamous black leather motorcycle jacket complimented the black tank top and skinny jeans she wore, along with thigh high black boots, a buckle on the outside of each shoe. Placing the badge that she thought she didn't deserve on the right lapel of her jacket, Emma head out the door and drove to the station in her shabby yellow Bug.

The lens of the telescope could make out Emma's slender body as she slipped the black tank top over her head. He watched every little thing she did like a hawk scouting his prey. Jefferson smirked at the thought of devouring Emma right then and there, but he scolded himself. He knew better than that. He must be patient and wait for the proper time when Emma would never expect it. And Jefferson knew exactly how to lure her into his trap.

Jefferson, living in isolation for twenty-eight years, always dreamed of better tomorrows, the ones where someone actually made him feel . . . happy. He conceived the idea that after Regina placed the curse, he was destined to live alone. His daughter had been ever so cruelly ripped from his hands the day the curse was placed, and he hated to remember that day.

Grace was naturally small for a ten year-old girl, stood only 4 feet tall and appeared more vulnerable and easy to take advantage of than most girls her age. When in fact, Grace had to be the toughest of her friends. Now, she was the epitome of a girly-girl who loved to dress up and have tea parties and talk about boys, however the way she dealt with her past was unimaginably remarkable. After witnessing her mother's death at the mere age of five years old, Grace couldn't help but cry and think about it some nights as she held onto her father's waistcoat and prayed that she would come back. After a while, at about the age of eight, Grace realized she had nothing to do with her mother's death. Jefferson told her that the queen killed off her mother just to make Jefferson miserable and regret not coming to work for him; working for the Queen meant leaving Grace and he knew he could never abandon his daughter for the world.

When Regina took over after the curse set in, the day Grace was torn from Jefferson crumbled his heart and hers forever. Grace and Jefferson were just in the middle of their tea party when there came a rapid pounding on the door and shouting "In the name of the Queen, open up now!" The Queen? Whatever did the Queen want anything to do with Jefferson?

"Grace, go hide, now. I'm not asking you, I'm ordering you. Go." Jefferson ordered in a hushed whisper. Frantically, Grace ran to her bedroom and stayed there cuddled under her covers with her stuffed rabbit, worried sick about her father. Jefferson opened the door and saw the one and only Regina standing at his doorstep.

"Ah, Jefferson. It's as though I would never see you again. How have you been these last couple of weeks, dear?" Regina strolled in, shooing the men at her side to go back to the carriage until further notice with a simple wave of her hand. Looking around Jefferson's small home, Regina came to find the tea party set still laid out in an orderly fashion across the small tea table.

"What do you want, Regina? I don't want to play games with you, so why are you here exactly?" Jefferson's sentence came out a little harsher than he intended as he stared down Regina when she touched Grace's tortoise propped up in a chair beside where Grace previously sat. "Don't touch that! Grace doesn't like anyone touching her toys."

"Oh, speaking of Grace . . ." Regina mused out loud, sauntering throughout the house without a care in the world. Jefferson made no move to stop her, only pondered Regina's words and thought to himself, _Never will she ever take my Grace._ "Oh, Jefferson?!" Regina called out his name like he was a dog, and Jefferson immediately came to Regina's side. "Where is your darling girl, Jefferson? She really is a sweetheart, and I would love it if we could just have a little chat together and-"

"No, Regina. Not without me. I will not abandon her. Not again." Jefferson's face turned stone-hard, his words cold, menacing and biting as the dimple on his right cheek disappeared. Regina gave Jefferson a smile and nodded.

"Fine, you may stay, Jefferson. Now, your daughter," she ordered and Jefferson moved to get Grace out of her bed. He knocked softly on her bedroom door.

"Grace, sweetie, it's just Daddy. Can I come in?" No answer from inside the door came back. "Grace," he tried again, "Grace, please open your door." Again no answer. Jefferson opened his daughter's bedroom door and found her nowhere in sight. He figured she just went to the bathroom until a breeze rushed through the window and a high-pitched scream resounded and echoed through the air. Jefferson looked out of Grace's window and not even a hundred feet outside, he saw Grace screaming in the arms of two of the Queen's guards. She cried for her father desperately, each time she plead breaking Jefferson's heart. He jumped out of the window and ran to rescue his daughter. Just before he could grab Grace into his arms, an invisible force tripped him and kept him planted to the ground long enough for Regina to stand in front of him and wickedly cackle.

"So, I guess your daughter is more mischievous than I thought, hmm?" A smirk flew across Regina's face. "I wonder where she gets that from, right, Jefferson?" Jefferson, struggling to reach his daughter being held back by two guards, could only glare at Regina.

"Leave her alone, Regina. You know she had nothing to do with what happened before. You let her see that, you ruined her hope, Regina. You should be so sorry, and you're lucky I didn't kill you on the spot." Regina took a threatening step towards Jefferson, eyes dark with malice.

"You _don't _have it in you," Regina gritted between her teeth, venom seeping through each word. "You would regret it forever, it would drive you _mad. _Not that you already are or anything."

"What?" Grace shot Jefferson a look of inquiry and disbelief. Jefferson's eyes lightened at the sight of his fragile daughter, and her turned his head to face her.

"No, Grace, don't listen to her. She's lying. She wants to take you away from me-"

"That is entirely right, my dear Jefferson. You are a very damaged man, Jefferson. You are very unstable and I don't think you're well enough to take care of your daughter. So I suggest some time alone would . . . drive out the madness in you, hmm?" Grace's eyes began to pool with tears at the mention of her being taken away from her father. Grace needed him as Jefferson needed her and being apart . . . would probably drive Jefferson even more mad.

"Papa! Don't go! Please, Your Majesty, don't let him go! I need him!" Grace's voice made Jefferson cry, although he tried to blink the tears away from his eyes.

"Well Grace, I'm sorry, but I just can't have that. It would be too hard for your father to live with and I couldn't have him hurting anyone, right? That would be cruel. So, I will let you live with me while your father sorts his problems out on his own. How does that sound, Grace?" Regina's sugary-sweet voice attempted to appease the distraught ten year-old, however, it only made Grace cry harder and begin to struggle. The guards tightened around Grace as she yelled for Jefferson, who couldn't take the situation anymore. Her voice cracked a piece of his heart inside as Jefferson too began to cry for his Grace. Regina finally made the command to release the pair as they embraced each other tightly.

"Papa. I don't want to go. I can't leave you," Grace cried into his shoulder. Jefferson smoothed her hair and rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her down.

"Baby, I don't ever, ever, ever want to leave you, but I think right now, maybe the Queen is right. I am not what you need right now. I'm not a good influence, my love."

"Yes, you are! I need you, Papa!" Grace's tears stained Jefferson's coat as he held her close once again, muttering sweet nothings into her ear as he stroked her back and placed a sweet lingering kiss to her forehead. After a while, Regina made a motion for Jefferson to let his daughter go. Jefferson obeyed, however letting each finger slowly remember and store the feel of Grace's clothes, her scent, and the softness of her skin.

"We will meet again soon, my Grace. I promise, I'll be back for tea time." With a small bittersweet grin, Jefferson referenced Grace's favorite story, however Grace only focused on her father's face as she was picked up and loaded into the carriage. Jefferson blew her a sad kiss good-bye and Grace returned the gesture from the carriage window, tears streaming down her pale face as the carriage began to roll away.

"We'll meet again soon, Jefferson," Regina called from her horse and rode off into the distance. Long after the carriage became out of sight and he stared into the distance as far as his eyes could, Jefferson crumbled to his knees on the grass and began to sob, not caring who saw him. All he wanted was his sweet daughter back.

A few days passed on after the depressing memory wracked Jefferson's heart. He still intently watched Emma and her every move. July the 10th, a Tuesday, Jefferson knew was a day that Grace went to dance class. He could tell she really enjoyed it because she was the best in her class and remembered how she used to dance around the house and stand on her tiptoes and leaped over puddles like a ballerina, graceful and with perfectly straight legs. Around the same time he saw Grace enter the dance studio, he saw Emma's car pull away from the diner. She looked extremely frustrated just by the way she walked to her car. _Perfect timing,_ Jefferson thought, _I can just . . . clear her head of all her troubles._ Jefferson threw his scarf around his neck to hide his obvious scar and put his long coat around him, turned off the house lights and, with an giddy grin, set out for his prey.

Emma had a tough day at work; between more scandal about Henry between her and Regina and Mr. Gold, the pawn shop owner, trying to make ridiculous deals with her, she could take only so much madness in one day. Frustrated and upset, she set out to drive a ways out of town just to clear her head, but as soon as she left the central city, a huge rainstorm crashed upon her. Her run-down windshield wipers could not move fast enough to clear the pounding rain for her to see clearly. She turned on her bright lights and could see a faint shadow walking along the right side of the road. Suddenly, her tires skid and ran off the road, nearly killing the man walking along the street if he hadn't jumped out of the way in time. Emma banged her head against the steering wheel and, from what the man could tell, lost consciousness. The man began to question her, but Emma did not respond. After trying to act distressed, Jefferson, the man in the coat, took hold of Emma's head in his hand and whispered in her ear, "Hello, Emma Swan. Nice to meet you too." He let her go with a devious laugh and carried her to the back seat of her car.

Jefferson pulled out a roll of duct tape from his coat pocket and bound Emma's hands behind her and her feet together and gagged her mouth in case she woke up before they reached their destination. This was just makeshift, of course, Jefferson had many more intricate plans for his dear little swan. Jefferson restarted the ignition and drove off to his house, leaving Emma with no idea what was in store for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Rewriting History

Chapter Four: Broken Hearts and Magic Hats

Jefferson set his mouth into a smirk as he continued to drive along the rainy road ahead of them all the way back to his isolated mansion on the outskirts of Storybrooke. He glanced to the back seat every so often to check on Emma, still unconscious from hitting her head against the steering wheel when she ran off of the road. He smiled to himself, thinking of all the wonderful things he could do to Emma when they got back to his mansion. And then he remembered something: Where in hell would everyone think she was? Fortunately, with some expertise in calligraphy, he managed to mock Emma's handwriting in a note addressed to Mary Margaret explaining how she went back to Boston and she would be coming home in a few days. Jefferson secretly sent the note in the mailbox as soon as he pulled up to his driveway and shoved the letter inside.

Emma's eyes began to flutter in the back seat as the car came to a screeching halt. When she realized that she was in the back seat of her car and couldn't move her hands, she squirmed to reach something, but with her hands behind her back, nothing was possibly in her reach. She tried to call out for help and met the face of the man in the front seat. He was beautiful for sure, perfect brown hair, piercing blue eyes with a hint of gray, a flawless face . . .

"Oh, I see the little swan is awake. Have a nice nap, love?" Emma's eyes widened. She knew she knew this man from somewhere, and she finally recalled his face after a moment. He was the man walking along the street that she almost killed. Emma began to recoil herself and scoot away from the man, but when he reached out his hand to pull her back, she stopped moving.

"Who are you," she tried to choke out from under her gag but only came out as a mess of syllables. Jefferson took the gag off of Emma's mouth for a moment to let her speak. "What do you want with me? Why am I here? Why-" Jefferson cut her off by placing a finger to her lips.

"Well, if you'd let me talk, I'll tell you. What I want with you is very simple, Emma. I-" Emma cut him off this time.

"How do you know my name?" The tremble in her voice gave away the fear she ever so desperately tried to conceal. Jefferson gave a small laugh and took Emma's chin in his hands and took notice when she didn't shy away.

"Dear Emma, I know more about you than about half the people in this town. Word travels fast, and it's a small town, you know. You are a very fascinating person, Emma Swan, and I'm dying to get to know you better. So, shall we?" Emma's eyes hardened at the sound of his voice and only then did she release herself from his grasp. She glared at the man whose name she did not know and retreated to her former state leaning against the back seat.

"Leave me alone. How could you possibly know anything about me? And even if you did, you probably couldn't tell me anything that other people don't know about me," Emma retorted staring this man dead in the eyes menacingly.

"Your middle name is Rose, your favorite color is yellow, you're 28 years old, you lived in a foster home until you were three but they sent you away because they had their own kids, you think that men don't love you so you push them away, and you only believe what you see. Anything else I'm missing?" Jefferson gave Emma a hint to answer the question but all she could do was stare agape at the man before her.

"You're . . . insane . . ." Emma breathed sharply. "How . . . how . . ." Emma couldn't place her thoughts to form a coherent sentence. Jefferson opened his car door and opened the door closest to Emma's head, sat beside her, and began to stroke her golden blonde hair. Emma couldn't help but pull away at the sudden gesture.

"Emma darling, it's okay. I know you're confused but-" Emma tried to sit up but couldn't find strength within her to pull herself up and crashed back down on the seat.

"Confused?! I'm that and pretty scared out of my damn mind right now! Let me go, you sick, crazy freak! Let me-" Jefferson silenced her by putting his hand over her mouth muffling her screams. She opened her mouth to bite his hand but stopped when he saw he held her gun in his right hand, hammer back and ready to fire.

"Emma. Shut up." Again, Emma tried to wriggle out of his hold, so in return, he straddled her in the back seat, his feet keeping her legs still. "Stop, Emma. I don't want to do this to you, but I will if I have to. Now, just listen to me, or I will make you _suffer_." Emma stopped trying to fight Jefferson; his weight on top of hers became too much to handle since she couldn't buck him off. She relaxed her muscles and reluctantly stared Jefferson in the eyes. "Emma, I've run into a very serious problem. My daughter Grace has been taken away from me by the Evil Queen and I need to get her back."

"Reg-" Emma began to say but Jefferson placed a finger to her lips.

"Emma, let me finish." He seductively ran his finger down Emma's lips, smelling her cherry-flavored Chapstick on his finger. Emma's nose wrinkled, silently questioning the man's motives. "Now, I can't bring her back to our land until I make my hat work. It's a portal, and without magic, it's just a hat. I know you have magic in you, Emma. That's where you come in; I need your magic to get my hat to work, otherwise, I'm stuck in this world forever. Now, assuming you try and fight me again, I may have to seek out _other_ ways to get you to make my hat. Like the sound of that?" Emma could only shake her head, unable to vocalize her thoughts. "Didn't think so, dear. Now, allow me to escort you inside." Jefferson pulled a switchblade from his back pocket, and Emma gasped.

"What are you going to do with that?" Emma attempted but failed to conceal the anxiety in her voice.

"Emma, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Relax, little swan," Jefferson cooed as he split the duct tape binding her ankles together. Emma pulled herself up to the edge of the seat with a great amount of effort, feeling terribly dizzy as she sat up. Jefferson then split the duct tape around her wrists and Emma sighed with relief, grateful to be free of her bounds. Jefferson removed the scarf from around her neck that he used to gag her and stuffed it in his pocket and took hold of Emma's hand shyly, looking at her and silently asking her for permission. Emma gratefully accepted his arm and moved to take a step out of the car when she lost her balance and fell backwards. Luckily, Jefferson caught her in the small of her back and Emma gasped in shock. She looked into Jefferson's distressed eyes as he asked her repeatedly "Are you okay, Emma?" Emma became lost in Jefferson's entrancing eyes, completely ignoring his questions. Memories of when he first turned around and looked at her came flooding back as Emma locked her gaze on his perfect face, gorgeous eyes, dreamy hair . . . _Oh God, what am I doing? I shouldn't be attracted to him!_ When Jefferson tapped her on the shoulder, Emma snapped out of her reverie, catching herself staring at Jefferson again.

"What? What did you say?" Her words still came out a little slurred after the spell of unconsciousness, but she ignored that and focused herself on Jefferson.

"I said, are you okay, Emma? What happened? Cheshire Cat got your tongue?" Jefferson smiled half-heartedly at his joke and even Emma had to smile. "Here, I'll help you. Take my hand." Emma looked at Jefferson with cautious eyes, unsure whether to trust him or not. "Emma. It's okay, I won't hurt you. Let me help you to the door at least." Emma nodded and decided to take Jefferson's hand, still on guard in case he tried to attack her. After a long, painful walk up the stairs leading to Jefferson's front porch, Emma and Jefferson looked at each other for a quick moment and Jefferson opened the door for Emma. "After you."

Emma studied the large house in awe. Never had she seen a house so lavish and luxurious. The main color scheme being red. white, and black, Emma secretly applauded whoever picked out the furniture and turned back to Jefferson, gazing lovingly at Emma. She found it creepy his staring, but she might just have to get used to him. Jefferson led Emma up the stairs to a sitting room with again red, black, and white accents. A piano sat in the southwest corner of the room, a fireplace along the wall, various musical instruments scattered throughout the room, and a telescope near the window. _Artsy and an astronomer? Wow, two for two, _Emma thought. Emma couldn't help but admire this room as well. Jefferson startled her as he approached her from behind.

"So, Emma," Jefferson started breaking the silence, "how about a cup of tea, hmm? You look very cold and you have a lot of work to do, remember?" Emma turned around to face Jefferson slowly, curiosity apparent in her eyes.

"That's very kind of you, but I think I'm fine." Emma tried as politely as she could to reject his offer because her suspicions on this man seemed to grow by the second.

"But Emma, I insist. Your hands are so cold, maybe some tea will help you warm up. I just made some fresh. Please, Emma?" Jefferson's face began to form an irresistible childlike pout that Emma mindlessly gave into.

"Okay, fine! I'll have some tea, thank you." Jefferson led Emma to a white leather couch with red and black throw pillows and sat her down while he went downstairs to the kitchen to pour her tea. He closed the door to the sitting room, smirking wickedly behind the door. This was his chance, his place to begin his quest to retrieve his daughter. He poured Emma's tea into a white cup with blue flowers on it and his in an ordinary white cup, just so he didn't get their drinks confused. He came back upstairs without warning as Emma sat on the windowsill now staring out the window in wonder. Jefferson startled her yet again as he came back with the tea tray and Emma nearly jumped when she heard the door open.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Emma! I didn't mean to scare you or anything, but I have your tea." Jefferson politely offered Emma her cup and she thanked him for his chivalry. Emma moved to stand near Jefferson by the piano, still sensing that nerve-wracking stare upon her. Emma drank the tea, enjoying the sensation smooth and warm down her throat with each sip. Emma and Jefferson made small talk, asking each other simple, unimportant questions. Then Jefferson piped up a question that stirred Emma's pulse.

"Emma, do you know what it feels like to be loved? To have a person that _truly_ loves you?" Emma took in a long slow breath, trying to connect her countless misplaced thoughts.

"Yeah. I do." Pause. "But he's not . . . here anymore." Emma felt an unwanted tear bloom in her eye, wishing she wouldn't have answered Jefferson's question.

"Emma-"

"No, it's fine!" She slapped his hand away that reached out to comfort her. "I just . . . miss him. A lot. I loved him more than any other man I had ever met." More tears fell from her pale cheeks. "And now he's gone! He's . . . dead. He died in my arms the last night of his life. I kissed him and then he . . . dropped to the floor dead. I felt like I poisoned him or I made him die. No one knows why he died, but I miss him. I think about him all the time! Even when I tell myself not to, there he is in my head! I . . . I'm so sorry I'm doing this to you right now, I mean you asked me and I . . ." Emma paused. The room seemed to spin around her. She cradled her forehead in her hands, trying to make the sensation stop. Jefferson's eyes shot up to Emma when she stopped talking. _This is it,_ he thought.

"Is something wrong, Emma?" Jefferson took a few steps closer to Emma, closing off the distance between them. Emma tried to stand up in a feeble attempt to move back to the couch but failed miserably.

"I feel really . . . dizzy. Everything's . . . spinning . . ." Emma couldn't support her own weight and luckily Jefferson could hold her up. Jefferson moved her to the couch and lay her down, teacup still in her hand.

"Look, let me go get you some air, okay?" Jefferson strolled out of the room but only could make it halfway to the door before Emma stopped him. The whole time, Emma noticed Jefferson walked with a limp, unseen when he turned to walk away from her.

"Your-your limp," Emma croaked out before Jefferson made his way completely out of the door. He turned on his heels back to the couch, facing Emma with a small smile.

"Oh, that." Jefferson gave a weak laugh while Emma tried to focus her vision on his feet and his face. She stared at Jefferson with curiosity, unsure what stunt he may try to pull on her. Admitting his guilt, his face contorting to a stone-cold expression, he looked down at the poor girl before him. "I guess you caught me."

Emma couldn't hold herself up any longer and she involuntarily dropped the teacup to the plush rug below her, thankful she didn't shatter it. Emma looked up at Jefferson weakly and asked weakly, "Who are you," before falling into a state of blissful unconsciousness. Jefferson smirked devilishly at her, admiring his genius plan of subduing his little toy. Jefferson bent down to her ear and whispered harshly to her, "The genius that fooled you, Emma Swan."

Jefferson couldn't let Emma ruin his plans for her, so he carried her out of the sitting room into a dark, unlit room of what appeared to be used as an office. He took his sleeping beauty from his arms and lightly set her in a desk chair, tying down her wrists to the armrests and gagged her again just in case she wanted to scream again. Jefferson took a few supplies from Emma's car, now hidden in the garage under the house, including her handcuffs, her cell phone, her wallet, and her gun, the four things she valued most in her car. While Emma remained unconscious, Jefferson sat in another chair across from Emma sharpening a pair of scissors, waiting for his sweet swan to wake up, and he knew it would be soon.


End file.
